


you were in tears (I was in a red jacket)

by lostintranslaation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Michelle Jones-centric, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostintranslaation/pseuds/lostintranslaation
Summary: Michelle had always had a tight grip on her emotions.She knew when to lean in, and when to pull back. When to give, when to take. She was in complete control.But when it came to Peter Parker…It happened gradually, over the span of many a study hall and lunch hour, but slowly and surely, Michelle Jones fell for Peter Parker.And she hated it.Because Peter Parker was a gem. A true diamond in the rough, in the toughest of roughs. A diamond that would someday realize that he deserved better than her.A diamond who would someday leave her for someone else.She just couldn’t take that chance.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68
Collections: Peter Parker's Tales





	you were in tears (I was in a red jacket)

**Author's Note:**

> You ever hear a song lyric that gives you the perfect idea for a story because that's where this bad boy came from (title is from "Call it a Night" by Wild Rivers)

Michelle had always had a tight grip on her emotions. 

She knew when to lean in, and when to pull back. When to give, when to take. She was in complete control. 

But when it came to Peter Parker…

It happened gradually, over the span of many a study hall and lunch hour, but slowly and surely, Michelle Jones fell for Peter Parker. 

And she hated it.

Because Peter Parker was a gem. A true diamond in the rough, in the toughest of roughs. A diamond that would someday realize that he deserves better than her. 

A diamond who would someday leave her for someone else. 

She just couldn’t take that chance. 

She started by not answering his texts, then becoming cool and distant when they hung out. She could tell it was hurting him, she could see it in his face, in his voice, through his texts. It hurt her too. But it had to be done. 

_“Hey M, I just wanted to call and check in on you,”_ Peter sighed through the phone. _“You haven’t been returning my texts or calls and this is, uh- my third? Fourth message?”_ There was a pause, and the voice that continued was smaller, dejected. _“I— did I do something wrong?”_ Michelle’s stomach sank and tears pricked her eyes. _“I’m sure that, whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. Just—“_ another sigh, _“call me back okay? We can work this out. I love you M.”_ The ‘end call’ tone rang back in Michelle’s ears. 

_‘I love you, M.’_

Looking back, maybe the first ‘I love you’ was when it all started. That was the moment she knew she loved him too. But she didn’t say it back. She didn’t dare say it back. Because saying it out loud gave it depth, gave it _meaning._

She deleted the message and the three others before it without even opening them. Maybe Peter would see that he would be better off with someone else. Somebody else that was not her.

She turned off her phone and flicked the lights off to go to bed. Maybe she would feel better in the morning.

  
  
  


She did not feel better in the morning.

In fact, she might have felt worse.

A few more texts from Peter came in, and a couple from Ned. 

She left her phone in her room and went to get breakfast from the kitchen. It was Saturday. Her and Peter always hung out on Saturdays. 

She made toast, slathered it with butter and honey and sat down on the couch to watch an episode of _Brooklyn 99,_ a series Peter had gotten her hooked on. Surrounded by things that should have brought comfort and familiarity and nostalgia, Michelle found herself being sucked into a black hole that turned everything she saw into black and white and took away the taste from the foods she ate. She was brought back to right after her dad left, when all the things she enjoyed doing with him suddenly weren’t enjoyable anymore. Not without him.

A quick knock came to interrupt her thoughts. _“MJ? It’s me, Peter.”_ Peter’s voice came through, muffled by the door. _“I know you’re in there. Let me in. I brought maple bars,”_ he paused, waiting for a response. Michelle sighed because _this is not going to be easy_ and _when will he learn to take a hint?_

She padded over to the door and unlocked it with a _click._ She opened the door and Peter’s puppy-dog eyes that had never failed him before stared her in the face. “Did you get my messages? Or my texts?” Michelle leaned her forehead on the door. 

“I got them.”

“Oh,” Peter’s face fell and Michelle felt like throwing up. “Is-- is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

“Peter, I think we should break up.” His mouth opened like he was trying to say something, but no words came out. Tears welled up in his eyes like he had already known what was going to happen and made them shine. Michelle’s vision blurred, too, but she refused to let the tears fall. 

“Um,” Peter cleared his throat and it was obvious that he was trying not to break down. “I-- _why?”_ His fist clenched around the paper Dunkin’ Donuts bag and it crinkled. “Did I do something wrong? Was it--” realization flooded his features and he wiped a tear that had slipped down his cheek. “Was it because I said ‘I love you’?”

She shifted on her feet, trying as hard as she could to keep her expression deadpan. Her lip wobbled and gave her away. She tried to speak, but shook her head _no_ instead. Their silence was filled with tangible tension that could be cut with a knife.

“Can-- can I come in? So we can talk about this?” Peter’s voice was low, like it always was when he was holding back tears. 

Michelle nodded, taking a shaky breath and walking back to the kitchen, leaving the door open for Peter. She pulled out a seat at the table, the legs screeching against the hardwood floors. Peter sat down next to her and set the crinkled bag of donuts on the table. 

“What is it, M?” He grabbed her hand from her lap and squeezed it, eyes searching for hers, begging for eye contact that Michelle refused to give. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” She pulled her hand away and knotted her fingers together. 

“We can’t--” her voice wavered and she cleared her throat, steadying herself. “We can’t be together any more. We shouldn’t. It’s better for both of us this way.” _For you. It’s better for you, Peter. Why can’t you see that?_

“MJ, whatever it is, we can work this out, I promise,” he leaned forward to try and catch her gaze, and when she looked up, her heart _ached._ Ached for this boy who didn’t see he deserved better. _“Please_ MJ.” He slid onto his knees and held Michelle’s hands in his own once again.

She stood abruptly and pulled away from his touch, though everything in her, every instinct, every fiber of her being told her not to let him go. She walked to the door and opened it wide. “I’m really sorry, Peter.” He stood, slowly, rubbing his eyes and stood in front of Michelle. His eyes gleamed bright and heartbroken as he made his final plea.

“I _love_ you, MJ. Please don’t do this,”  
  
As hard as Michelle tried, as much willpower she had in her body couldn’t stop the tears from overflowing now. A few slipped down her cheeks, hot and wet and overwhelmingly _sad,_ but she swatted them away. “I’m… I’m sorry Peter.”

He sighed and took a step out the door, pausing like he wanted to turn around and say something that was on the tip of his tongue, but ultimately deciding to walk away without turning back. 

Michelle watched him walk away, knowing it was wrong but unable to tear her eyes away from the departure of the best thing in her life. 

She closed the door slowly, energy drained as she leaned against the wall. The donuts Peter had brought still remained on the table. She grabbed them and threw them in the trash. They were still warm. 

Her legs felt like lead as she dragged herself back to the couch, her half-eaten breakfast now looking repulsive. 

She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to ignore the hole in her chest that threatened to consume her and everything she enjoyed, leaving her life in black and white, devoid of color and excitement. 

——————

Peter gripped the bar on the crowded train, music in his earbuds cranked up as loud as they would go. He’d turned his phone on Do Not Disturb to avoid Ned’s incessant calling. He’d told Ned what was going on, and that he was going over to MJ’s. Ned probably thought they had worked out their issues. 

Peter bit the inside of his cheeks and fought against the tears welling up in his eyes. The train slowed to a stop and Peter pushed his way off the crowded train to walk back to his apartment. 

Rain splashed to the ground, but it didn’t feel cleansing. It felt smothering and cold and it soaked through his shoes when he misstepped into a puddle. 

He dropped his backpack on the floor of his apartment and kicked off his soggy shoes. “Hey honey,” May’s voice came to him from around the couch. It was her day off and ‘May Time’ always meant curling up under a blanket to watch old movies. “How’d it go?” She twisted herself to prop her arm up on the back of the couch. Peter’s sigh was all it took for her to take her cue. “Not good? Come ‘ere baby,” she got up and pulled him into a hug. Peter buried his face in the crook of her neck and she laced her fingers through his dripping curls. 

“So bad, May.” Peter’s voice cracked and he let himself relax in her arms. 

“How about this,” she pulled away to hold him at arm’s length. “You go take a hot shower and if you wanna talk about this, we can. If not, no biggie. We can eat popcorn and watch _Casablanca._ Sound good?” Peter nodded and trudged away to the bathroom. 

The shower didn’t do much for his mood, but it did warm him up.

May was humming in the kitchen, and normally he would join her, a melange of off-key melodies that weren’t pleasing to the ear, one that typically made them double over in bouts of laughter.

But today was not one of those days. 

Peter sat down at the counter and May pushed a steaming bowl of chicken and dumpling soup in front of him. “Eat that, you’ll feel better.” There was flour on her cheeks and in her hair, from making the dumplings fresh. It was comfort food at it’s very finest. Tears burned behind his eyes when he remembered that his love for chicken and dumpling soup was another thing he would never get to share with MJ. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Peter shrugged and stuffed another spoonful into his mouth. “She just,” he swallowed, “she just doesn’t love me.”

“Honey,” May rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he bowed his head and let the tears drip onto the counter top. “I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. You’re her world.”

“She broke up with me, May. There’s no coming back from this. She’s--” he sniffed and jammed his knuckles into his eye sockets. “She’s made up her mind.”

“Peter--”

He pushed his stool out and stood, wiping away stray tears. “Let’s watch _Casablanca._ I’ll go get it queued up.”

——————

She did it. 

She did what she needed to do.

So why did she feel like this?

Like the world wasn’t exciting any more? Like life had lost its vibrancy and there wasn’t a point in enjoyment any more?

Michelle sat, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the TV screen playing the 13th or 14th episode of _Brooklyn 99._ She lost count of how many had played after the 9th. Peter would be mad that she was watching them without him. He loved seeing her reactions to the series. But it didn’t matter any more.

Did anything matter?

At some point in the afternoon, she dozed off, but even her sleep was haunted with visions of the life she could have had with Peter. Visions of the two of them at their high school graduation. Visions of the two of them holding hands in front of an altar, a priest between them. Visions of them growing up and growing old together. 

Visions that would never come true. Visions that could never come true.

She slept on the couch until she heard the door to her apartment open and close.

“Michelle?” her mom’s voice called. She picked Michelle’s breakfast plate up off the couch and set it on the coffee table. “Are you sick?” She pressed her hand against Michelle’s forehead.

“I’m not sick, Mama.”

“Why aren’t you out with Peter?” She shed her jacket and sat down on the couch. Michelle sat up. 

“We’re… not together anymore.”

“Well… why not?” Michelle shrugged. “Did something happen baby?” Michelle shook her head and tears burned her eyes once more. Her mom pulled her into her lap and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry baby.”

They rocked back and forth and Michelle let herself be comforted, breathing deeply into the scent of the Thai restaurant her mom cooked at that clung to her at all times, even if she hadn't worked in a couple days.

“He told me he loved me.” Michelle’s voice was thick and she sniffed. Her mom’s methodical strokes on her hair paused for a moment, before picking back up again. 

“He did?” Michelle nodded and bit her thumbnail. “Did… do you feel the same?”

“Yeah,” her voice cracked. She didn’t even have to think about it. She loved him. Michelle Jones loved Peter Parker. 

“Oh honey,” was all her mom could say. A tear slipped down the side of Michelle’s cheek and she let it fall, darkening spots on her mom’s blue jeans. Her mom laced her fingers through Michelle’s hair and scratched her scalp lightly. “If he really loves you, it’s not over. It’s not too late.”

“You don’t--” Michelle’s voice heightened to a whine and she cleared her throat. “You don’t know how I treated him, Mama. I was horrible.”

“You have to go and apologize, baby. The sooner the better.”

“No, you don’t understand. I-- I _can’t._ He probably hates me now.”

“Michelle, that boy could never hate you. He doesn’t have it in him.”

“But… what if he leaves me someday. There are so many other girls he could be dating.”

“You’re telling me that you two broke up because you’re afraid of the hypothetical situation of him one day _maybe_ finding another girl? Michelle, honey, I love you, but that was stupid.”

“So,” Michelle pushed herself up and wiped at her face. “You think I should go apologize?” Her mom nodded and _mmhmm_ ’ed.

“The sooner the better.” She got off the couch and extended a hand for Michelle to take. She pulled her up and grabbed her raincoat off the hook by the door. She helped her into her jacket and brought her boots. Michelle slipped her feet in and her mom’s comforting fingers wiped away the remnants of tears from her face. “You got this, baby.”

Though the walk to Peter’s apartment wasn’t long, by any means, it didn’t usually feel short.

But today Michelle was filled with a different type of urgency that only comes with making a grave mistake. The cold bit her nose and the rain frizzed her hair, but she finally made it.

She practically sprinted up the stairs to his apartment, not even knowing what she would say when she got there. She rapped on the door three, four times and was greeted by a certain May Parker.

“Oh, uh,” she looked over her shoulder. “Hi Michel--”

“Is Peter there?” Michelle interrupted. “I'm sorry, I-- I made a mistake and I need to fix it.”

“Um, yeah, come right in,” May held the door open and she kicked her boots off at the door.

“Thanks, May.” 

“Peter’s over there,” May nodded to the couch, where Peter sat facing the other way. “I’ll, uh, go give you two some privacy.” She said before ducking into another room in the hallway. 

Michelle hung her jacket on the coat rack and approached Peter, butterflies in her stomach growing with every step. “Peter?” She sat down next to him, but he kept on staring straight ahead. _Back to the Future_ was playing, but his eyes were red. Michelle’s chest ached. She put a hand on his shoulder and he pursed his lips together and swallowed. “Peter, look at me,” she whispered. 

He shifted on the couch to face her, but shrugged her hand away. His jaw was set like he always did when he was trying not to cry. “What is it?” His voice squeaked. 

“Peter, I’m so sorry.”

“MJ, I--”

“I made a huge mistake Peter.” She wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry. Do you think you can forgive me?”

“What _happened,_ M? Things were going so well,” his voice trailed off. 

“I just… you know how special you are, right?” He folded his legs up on the couch and leaned forward. “And any girl would be so lucky to have you. And I can’t help myself from thinking… how much better you could do than me.”

“MJ,”  
  
“No. It’s true. So when you said that you loved me… it wasn’t that I didn’t believe it, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about how good we have it now and how it will hurt so much to see it slip through my fingers someday. About how it would hurt a lot less to let it happen now.” It was silent for a moment. “Because the truth is,” she looked up to meet his eyes. “I love you too, Peter.”

“MJ, I would never leave you.” Tears blur her vision again and she bites her lip. “Never ever.”

“Never ever?” She chuckles but the promise warms her.

“Never ever.” He pulls her closer and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you M.”

And as they sat on the couch watching movies for the rest of the evening, Michelle saw a tiny glimpse into their future together, built on that simple promise. 

Never ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It would make my day if you would drop a comment/kudos.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! My url is wh0doyouthinkyouareiam


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